Pariah's Revenge
by Startisparticus2017
Summary: Episode related: One is in a spiral of past and present, the other in a battle with his own partner. This is not a death story, this is a hurt/comfort, friendship. **A special thank you Maryellen for her support, edits and friendship and to Sandy my Beta Reader for her assistance. (I have acquired a Beta Reader/This story has been updated 9/26/2017)


**STARSKY & HUTCH**

 **A disclaimer:** I do not own the characters nor do I receive compensation for these stories. The stories are written for entertainment purposes only.

 **By: Startisparticus2017**

 **Episode based: Pariah**

 **Pariah's Revenge**

 **Characters: David Starsky, Ken Hutchinson, Captain Dobey, Huggy Bear, James Craig, Mrs. Craig, Officer Linster, Dr. Nogahz, Elinor Regan**

 **Pariah's Revenge**

Starsky and Hutch had the weekend off; Hutch was at his apartment getting caught up on some long overdue sleep. Starsky was home sipped on a beer, he was restless, kicked his tennis shoes off. He un-tucked his denim style blue long sleeved shirt. He placed the beer down on the counter and pulled his gun from its holster and placed it next to the beer. He removed his holster and also placed it on the counter. He looked at the clock; it was 11:45 pm and the street lights shined through the windows.

He ran his fingers through his hair and stretched at the same time.

"It sure has been a long week." He mumbled to himself. A smirk formed as he took the beer in his left hand, raised and recited a toast.

"To a long week! Ya talkin' to yourself Davey!" He grinned, snorted and took a sip.

As he savored the beer and moment, he was startled from a noise that came from outside. He rushed into action, he placed the beer down on the counter and removed his gun from the leather holster on the counter and moved away from the window like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. The cop instincts kicked in as he reached over and flipped the light switch off on the wall. He slowly and cautiously walked over to the window, leaned his back against the wall, moving his head forward, he cautiously peeked out the window, and saw the neighbor's cat in the trash can down by the road. The focused blue eyes scanned once more and he shook his head, he sighed, and chuckled.

"Cats got me jumpin' now."

He walked over and flipped on the light switch. No power and he clearly heard creaking that came from the deck area. Starsky placed his gun in the assumed position; both hands grasped and made his way to the kitchen counter in an attempt to look out the sliding glass door. It was eerily dark with only minimal light that shined in from the street.

"Street lights? Davey this ain't a good sign." The tension evident on his facial features his eyes wide and focused. The sound of glass shattering came from the sliding glass door; a canister like object was thrown in, landed in the kitchen and rolled into the middle of the living room. Starsky dived for the floor into a somersault and crawled toward the bedroom swiftly and closed the door.

The canister popped loudly and spewed smoke and hissed. Starsky grabbed a blanket on the chair near the bed, and placed it at the base of the door. He went to the night stand and grabbed the phone, dialing 911. The operator answered.

"This is detective David Starsky at 2848 Ridgeway, officer needs assis…tance!" The distinct sound of a click and the telephone line was dead. His eyes widened, face locked in uneasiness, and he placed the handset back on the cradle of the phone. The smoke had filtered through the door. He wiped the sweat from his face and eyes and coughed.

The coughing increased. He heard the hissing from the living room and relocated to the other side of the bed with his gun drawn. A crashing noise came from behind, the window shattered. Another object entered and landed mere inches from him along with shattered glass.

Starsky glanced down and noticed a large stone with what looked like a message attached to it. A few moments passed as he calmed his breathing; listened, waited for the next encounter, he jumped as the door of the bedroom blew open by a loud thud, gunshots echoed. Starsky attempted to shoot back and was overtaken by a burning sensation in his lower left side and along with a violent headache and fell to the floor. Unable to move from pain, he couldn't see anything but smoke, all went silent.

The silence was broken by the voice of a man. Starsky didn't move, couldn't move, he just laid there with his gun ready.

"Hey cop, see you in HELL!" The figure in the smoke and darkness moved toward him; the sounds of sirens could be heard as they approached. The figure had stopped.

"Son of a bitch, if you aren't dead you soon will be! This isn't over pig! Do you hear me, this isn't over!" His voice was crisp, the words stained with hate.

The sounds of rapid and swift movement retreated. Starsky attempted to move, but is stopped by the brutal pain in his left side and upper right arm. His head hurt and his breathing had become more labored.

He heard the front door open and the all too familiar voice of his partner. Hutch, who was dressed in a long sleeve shirt, jeans and boots entered the room with his gun drawn, looking slightly disheveled. Hutch slowly made his way into the smoky living room, his breathing is labored. Eyes focused, he had covered his mouth. Two other officers followed him with flash lights. Hutch looked around and coughed from the left over smoke, his face was panicked and pinched with fear. He motioned the officers to the right and left. Hutch can see the bedroom door was open and slightly off the hinges. He slowly walked over to the door, his gun drawn ahead of him, pushed it as it cracked and squeaked.

"Starsky, STARSK!" His voice held a tremor and pleaded for a response. Hutch scanned the dark room and tripped over the blanket on the floor near the shattered door.

Starsky was uncertain if he had dreamed or if it was real, any movement removed his breath. He attempted to raise his arm, he wheezed, took short breaths from his mouth.

Hutch continued to look around, pushing the bathroom door, he lowered his gun. The wheezing sound caught his attention. He stopped and raised his hand up signaling the two officers to stop and not move.

"Starsky?"

The power was restored, Hutch quickly reached for the bedroom light switch. The sudden moment of anticipation turned to sheer horror when he noticed the dark curls that belonged to his partner. He was lying on the floor in a pool of blood beyond the bed. Hutch's heart sank. A quick assessment showed that partner on the floor on his right side, his hands were covered in blood, his forehead bleeding.

Hutch immediately shouted as he shortened the distance and leaped over the bed. "Call an ambulance Starsky's been shot, call AN AMBULANCE!"

His voice breathy, a few octaves higher than normal. "Starsk, hey buddy."

Hutch crouched into a seated position and gently touched his partner's head and arm. He looked around the room to see his partner's gun in front of him, a rock on the floor with something attached to it. The glass from the window was scattered about the floor.

Starsky felt himself sinking. He was cold and reached for Hutch, his hands trembled and his attempts were weak. Hutch felt his partner move, saw his hand and took it into his own. Hutch took a deep breath.

"Hey buddy, take it easy, easy. I'm here, I'm here." His voice soft and comforting. Hutch reached out and pulled the multicolored animal print blanket from the bed and covered his partner, and attempted to move him. Starsky gasped and groaned from pain.

Hutch stopped immediately, his face cringed. "Sorry buddy."

Starsky mumbled, but Hutch could not understand what he said.

The blond slid himself closer. "Starsk hang in there buddy, sorry…. Where the HELL IS THAT AMBULANCE?"

His voice went from soft to a powerful shout. Starsky, moved his hand tried to open his eyes enough to focus on his partner, his face covered in sweat and pale. He cleared his throat.

"uuuutch!" The ever present rattle from his lungs as he gasped for air.

"I'm here, buddy, right here. T—t-try not to talk, okay?" Hutch turned his head away, took a deep breath and calmed his quivered voice and ever-present stutter that only appeared when he was under stress or upset. He slowly turned his head and gently touched the dark curls, his hand trembled. The sound of an ambulance was in the distance. Hutch looked down at his partner's eyes that were pale blue, weak, not the indigo brilliance. Hutch smirked.

"Hey your ride is here, hang in there buddy, hang in there." His voice trembled as he fought the surged emotions.

A police officer entered the room; he shook and appeared very nervous. His uniform was a little loose on his thin frame; he looked like a younger version of Starsky, minus the blue eyes. Hutch looked up at him.

"Hutch we got a problem, we gotta get the hell out of here, now… NOW!" His voice was unhinged, which caught the blond's attention. Hutch looked at the officer.

"I can't move him, Linster!" Hutch's eyes widened and the fierceness matched his tone. The officer moved in closer, his hands were shaking.

"Hutch, there's an explosive device on the deck, no telling if there are more!" The young officer was also wide eyed with fear.

Starsky attempted to move and gasped with pain, he fought to communicate. "uuuuutch go, geeeet out…..gooooo!"

Hutch tugged a white blanket from the bed and covered his partner. He maneuvered the blanket around rapidly as he shuffled to his feet and created a make shifted hammock.

"Not without you!" The words were barked, and to the point. He paused to make eye contact, displayed determination and a no holds barred response. Starsky's eyes were slits of pale and pained blue, he tried to smile.

"Linster, grab this end!" Hutch ordered.

He gently grabbed his partner with the assistance of the officer. Hutch trailed carried his partner's head and shoulders, while Linster had his feet. They both carried him out cautiously and quickly. Starsky had slipped into a state of unconscious from the pain. The young officer cringed as he scurried as fast as he could out the door. They stepped onto the deck and down the stairway. The other police officers outside motioned the ambulance to move further down the road. Just as Hutch and Linster landed on the last few steps, the explosive went off sending the three men into the air and then quickly and abruptly to the ground. Hutch had landed onto his partner, as Linster had flown into the shrubs next to them. Hutch had the wind knocked out of gasped and rolled off his partner beneath him. Linster had minor scratches, but appeared to be fine.

Starsky hadn't moved and didn't appear to be breathing. Hutch's hand trembled as he felt for a pulse with panic on his face.

"Get the EMT's here! STARSKY! Breathe…. Don't you leave me?" The echoes of his voice can be heard throughout the scene.

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At the hospital some time later, Hutch sat in a small stale, stark, white hospital waiting room. His shirt was blood stained along with his hands. He placed his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his hair, lost in thought. He stood and began to pace. The events that took place kept rolling in his mind; the blood and explosion, Starsky's face pale and his eyes dull, almost lifeless and weak.

The pacing is interrupted briefly when a large man appeared in the doorway. It was Captain Dobey who displayed concern as he carried his brown suit coat on one arm. His tie was loose around his neck. Hutch looked at him briefly and resumed pacing.

"Have you heard anything?" Dobey walked in and sat and sighed deeply. Hutch shook his head, indicating, and no word.

"Hutch this was a hit, Starsky's not out of danger!" The Captain spoke calmly, but firmly. Hutch stopped and looked at Captain Dobey, anger etched in the tightness of his jaw.

"Yeah, he was ambushed!" The blond's tone was sharp, laced with anger.

"This was found tied to a rock in the bedroom." Dobey reached in the pocket of his suit coat on his lap and retrieved a plastic evidence bag with a slightly wrinkled piece of paper. He extended it to Hutch. Hutch took the plastic bag, examined it carefully and began to read the crumpled, dirty note.

"An eye for an eye, Starsky! Die pig!" Hutch handed the note wrapped in plastic back to Captain Dobey. His pace resumed with even more intensity, his shoulders were rigid.

"I can't think of that right now Captain; my partner is in there and I don't know if he's…if he's alive." His voice was laced with empathy and pain, but most of all fear. Dobey put the plastic bag in his suit coat pocket, sighed and crossed his arms.

"As of right now, you and your partner are under protection, no lip from you! Do you hear me?" Hutch turned to respond, he is distracted by the presence of a very petite woman who stood in the doorway wearing a lab coat, and she smiled.

"I am looking for Detective Hutchinson, or Hutch?" She looked at both men anxiously. Hutch walked toward her nodded as she extended her hand.

"I am Doctor Nogazh. I am assigned to David's care, he is stable for now, but very weak from blood loss. He will remain in ICU for now. We were able to repair the bullet wound on the lower left side region, the right upper arm needed stitching, also repaired." She glanced over to Captain Dobey and back to Hutch.

Hutch distracted, turned to see the Captain. "This is Captain Dobey, I'm sorry"

"Captain, a pleasure." As she smiled. "He said you would need this for evidence. David was also hit in the temporal lobe region, it did not enter, just a crease." She smiled and extended a clear container with lid, inside was a bullet stained with blood.

Hutch amazed and semi amused for his partner's forethoughts of always being a cop first, but his stomach and heart uneasy, he sensed there was more. The plastic container overtaken by the long shaking fingers, Hutch quickly handed it over to Captain Dobey.

He hunched forward, his eyes set on the petite woman before him as though what he was about to hear wasn't going to be good. The doctor touched his right arm gently; her face was calm and gentle. He sensed she was going to tell him something terrible.

"What aren't you telling?" Hutch looked at her, his body tensed.

She smiled and sighed.

"David said you were a man who would want nothing but the truth. Do not leave any details out. The bullet that entered the lower left side also nicked his spine." Hutch slowly and gently pulled away as his features melted into sheer panic and dread. The already pale face changed to a white bed sheet. He could feel his legs weaken, he took a deep breath.

"What does that mean? He's going to be alright, isn't he?" The question was asked, but his eyes displayed that he knew the answer. The doctor closed her eyes, and then looked directly into Hutch's worried and frightened eyes.

"It is too soon to tell. It is possible that David may experience paralysis, it is unclear if this will be permanent." The doctor took a deep breath, attempted to form a smile. Hutch froze with his mouth open; Captain Dobey bowed his head, took a deep breath and sighed. Hutch snapped himself back from his dark thoughts that were attempting to take over his mind.

"Does he know?" His voice was soft. The doctor paused, glanced over to the Captain and back to Hutch.

"He knew going into surgery that he didn't have feeling in his legs, even though he was heavily sedated." She placed her hands in her lab coat pockets, and bowed her head. Hutch closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"When can I see him?" The blond man before her held the gaze of distraught eyes. The doctor extended her hand and placed it on his arm and lead Hutch down the long sterile hall. Two officers stood guard just beyond the sign reading ICU.

The doctor escorted Hutch into the stark, white room. Starsky was motionless, the white sheet and tan blanket covered him up to his chest. Displayed on to his right hand was an IV, and wires that are connected to numerous monitors and equipment. The sound of continuous beeping from the heart monitor captured Hutch's attention, for a moment his mind ventured to how wonderful it was to hear the beat, Starsky's heart beat. The man in the bed was too quiet, a vision of blanched skin and the scene of reality overloaded Hutch. The doctor excused herself and left as Hutch pulled up the plastic and metal mint green chair and sat beside his partner.

For the first time, Hutch finally noticed Starsky's blood on his clothes and hands. The room felt as though it was shrinking, he took a deep breath, he felt his stomach turn. Thoughts raced through his mind and the possibility his best friend and partner may never walk again. How would his normally spirited partner cope with this? The 'what ifs' plagued his mind.

"Stop it, Hutchinson!" The words slipped past his lips. He tightened his jaw.

What haunted Hutch the most was the love Starsky had for life and their life of 'getting the bad guy'. Hutch sat, closed his eyes as he pinched his lips together, wished, prayed, but most of all tried to push away the overwhelming fear for his partner.

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A few miles away, in a dark apartment, the interior mundane, walls dirty. The TV played as the news of the explosion at Starsky's was broadcasted. A black man sat in a chair, stared at the TV; he tossed a can of beer across the room. He looked at the wall where a picture of a young black boy was posted and all around it are clippings of Starsky, along with pictures that appeared to be recently taken.

The man eased himself out of the chair and walked over to a picture of a young black man's photo with tears that had cascaded down his face.

"Lonni, he ain't going to get away with this. He took you from me baby brother, that cop will die."

Lonni Craig was a young black teen boy who was involved in a holdup, Starsky was in pursuit when Lonni had drawn a gun and aimed to shoot, and Starsky fired the killing shot. The family forgave Starsky once an investigation took place along with a hearing. Starsky was cleared of any wrong doing. Everyone except his big brother James. James was deployed overseas when Lonni had died. He moved away from the picture picked up the gun on the table, and pointed it at Starsky's picture.

"You will die!" The words were cold and callous, his voice tense.

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Back at the hospital, Hutch who had fallen asleep in the lounge chair near his partner's bed, startled into consciousness by a disturbance out in the hallway. He jumped to his feet and opened the door with his gun in hand to see Huggy, in full corduroy red pants and jacket and yellow silk shirt with a large paper bag.

"Hutch, these honkies won't let me in!" The thin black man's eyebrows raised, his lips puckered with annoyance. Hutch motioned to the officers to allow the rather perturbed man entry.

Huggy strolled in; Hutch holstered his gun and closed the door, rubbed his eyes and yawned. Huggy handed Hutch the bag.

"Stopped by your place, and got some fresh clothes and a breakfast bar, and your usual salad and cheese sandwich. El Capitan called, said you needed to freshen up." Hutch pulled a chair and offered it to Huggy.

"Don't mind if I do. How's our man?" Huggy sauntered over to the chair. Hutch sat in the lounge chair, looked at Huggy with an expression of fear and frustration.

"He's stable, came around for a few minutes and went back to sleep. He may be paralyzed, Hug!" The last part stung when it left the blond's lips, he pulled them tight. Huggy looked at Hutch then back at Starsky with disbelief on his face, he blinked several times.

"You are kidding, right?" Huggy, was in disbelief. Hutch looked at him and shook his head.

"That won't stop him, Hutch, Starsky will bounce back, you'll see!" He looked at Hutch, painted confidence both on his face and in his words. Hutch leaned forward and rubbed his head as evident angst plagued him.

"It can't go down like this Hug, just can't." The words were spoken softly, with the weight of sadness. Huggy saw the stress on Hutch's face along with dread.

"Word on the street point to a hit, I'll see what I can dig up." Huggy rubbed the side of his face.

"Don't become a target, Hug." The words were spoken with sincere concern, as Hutch glanced at him. Huggy nodded, adjusted the red and the yellow neck scarf, as he stood and left.

Hutch stood, retrieved the bag Huggy brought, looked at his partner and made his way to the bathroom to freshen up.

Starsky slowly began to stir, his eyes slowly opened, he looked around the room. He attempted to sit up and solicited sharp pain in his side, right arm and head. He reached to touch his face. His mind is fogged; a burst of memories invaded his thoughts of what took place. He scanned around the room to see Hutch's clothes on the chair.

"Uutch, you hear?" The efforts were rewarded with more discomfort.

The bathroom door swung open and Hutch stepped out quickly.

"Hey buddy, I'm here-don't move." Hutch buttoned his shirt quickly as he made his way around the bed. Starsky was restless, his left hand moved along his side and the side of his head. Hutch sat beside him as he adjusted his shirt and reached for the call button.

"Starsk, easy, relax buddy." Hutch couldn't look at his partner, he looked away and regained his composure, and he turned back toward him.

"Hutch, my legs won't move?" Starsky looked at him and looked at his feet and back at him questioningly. Hutch didn't look away, his eyes were open pools of concern, but most of all fear.

"Take it easy buddy, the bullet nicked your spine, there's some swelling." The words seemed foreign to him, striking his heart as though he were hearing it for the first time. Inside, he screamed with fear, but knew he couldn't let his partner know this.

"What, how? Is this permanent?" Starsky punched his thigh weakly with his fist, caused the tubing for the IV to jolt in his right hand. Hutch grabbed his partner's arm gently to calm him.

"They don't know, Starsk, it's too soon to tell." Hutch felt everything being tugged inside him at once; he felt sick. Most of all he was angry and needed to find the person responsible. Starsky's face was easily read, Hutch knew his partner and he's was shutting down emotionally.

Doctor Nogahz and a nurse entered. Hutch left so that she could explain everything to Starsky. The doctor began a quick routine set of tests on Starsky as he lay there, still a little dazed and confused. Starsky had closed his eyes and attempted to refocus.

"What's with my legs, Doc?" The doctor looked at him and sighed.

"David, the bullet nicked your spine. Once the swelling dissipates there is a possibility of regaining the feeling. It is too early to really know." She crossed her arms over her chest and formed a faint smile.

Starsky's expression went blank, he seemed to disconnect from all feelings and emotions. He closed his eyes; a tear threatened the corner of his eye. The doctor sat next to him and touched his hand gently and held it, lightly squeezed, she pulled away slowly.

"David, give it time. We will begin therapy." The doctor's words trailed in his mind like a recording.

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Hutch stood outside of Starsky's place with a crew of investigators and lab team. Captain Dobey paced the grounds anxiously. Hutch walked up the stairway and looked around at the damage caused from the blast. Captain Dobey looked at his detective who seemed miles away in thought. Hutch's eyes combed over the entire area, once his partner's place, what should have been a safe place.

"Hutch, this really isn't a good idea." The concern trailed from his Captain's words. Hutch stopped and stooped over to pick up what looked like a piece of detonator for an explosive. He tossed it over to Captain Dobey, who is startled.

"Hutch, did you hear me, I don't need you in the hospital with your partner. Why don't you go home and rest?" The Captain is not amused as he barked his question loudly.

Hutch continued toward the shattered door, he was a man on a mission. "Captain, I need to find who did this."

Dobey handed the detonator to an investigator and proceeded up the stairway. The inside of Starsky's place was fairly intact except for bullet sprade doors and a few pieces of furniture tossed. Hutch continued to walk around, he knew there was a clue there, he was feeling anxious.

"Whoever this is obviously has a personal vendetta against Starsky. Explosives, high power rifle, smoke bomb. This could be military background?" His eyes were wild with inquiries.

Hutch noticed something by the couch and walked over, retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and picked it up. It was a matchbook from a Chinese restaurant. He opened it and exposed a three unused matches. He handed it to another investigator.

"Put a rush on this, will you, Goodson?" Hutch is startled when he noticed Captain Dobey standing next to him and cleared his throat.

"Captain?" He relaxed his stiffened stance, Dobey was worried.

"If you are going to ignore my request, I need to assign you a temporary partner." Hutch looked at him with disbelief, anger flashed from his eyes.

"We've been through this before, I have a partner!" He responded firmly, no anger, it was just a firm statement. Dobey knew he came across wrong, and understood Hutch's reluctance.

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Across town in a semi populated area of Bay City tucked between a billiard room and a pawn shop was Ming Ju's Chinese Restaurant. The inside small and quaint, with gold and red Chinese emblems and decor. James sat with a newspaper in front him, stared at the article regarding to a police officer being injured, little to no detail, just that he survived. His fist tightened as he grasped the newspaper and crumbled it. James looked around the restaurant, and mumbled to himself.

"Nine lives, Detective Starsky. We aren't finished. Onto plan B, calm before the storm mission."

The story line of the past played inside his head, he couldn't move on, he felt Starsky was responsible, the only blame. James pulled on his green army jacket and adjusted his ragged wool black beanie hat and grabbed his keys. His shoulders rigid as he stood, he left the restaurant in haste, leaving the newspaper in a crumpled mess. The waitress, a young petite Chinese woman entered the dining area to serve James his food, but he was gone, she placed her hand on her hip and frowned.

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Starsky was not his usual vibrant, enthusiastic self; this was evident by the stark formal line of his lips. Although he appeared healthier physically, emotionally he wasn't. Hutch had been by a few times, but Starsky wasn't much for company or communicating. Hutch busied himself with getting repairs done at Starsky's place to include a wheelchair access ramp. He was now there to take Starsky home.

Starsky sat dressed in bed, his arm in a temporary sling. Two nurses stood next to the bed with a wheelchair and assisted him into the chair. Starsky was expressionless, aside from the twisted cringe from the pain. This made Hutch very uncomfortable. Hutch stepped behind the wheelchair to wheel his partner and friend out.

"Helmet?" He said it in a humorous way. Starsky's face remained that of a stone.

The two nurses laughed and felt bad for Hutch who is obviously trying to humor his partner. The young blond nurse touched Starsky's shoulder.

"Remember your therapy and I left my number in your right pocket." She winked at him; he nodded with a slight effort to smile.

Upon arrival at Starsky's house, the sight of a wheelchair access ramp wasn't leaving Starsky's already dark mood room to improve. The ramp was a temporary metal track ramp with planks of gray that covered the existing stairway. Hutch wheeled him up the ramp; the sound of wood against metal, and the wheelchair squeaking interrupted the silence. A police car was parked near the house. The place was clean and organized. Hutch grabbed a lap blanket and placed it on the couch. He went to the fridge and pulled a beer and root beer, popped them and handed the root beer to his partner who looked around.

"Here ya go Starsk, welcome home buddy!" Starsky reached for it and placed it on the end table near his wheelchair; no smile, no frown just a solemn sad face.

Starsky cleared his throat, and very calmly spoke, almost monotone. "I'm not your responsibility Hutch; it is what it is, and ya need to walk out that door and live your life. I appreciate all that you've done. Ya get what I'm sayin''?"

Hutch took a sip of his beer and took a deep breath, arched his eyebrows slightly and responded sarcastically.

"You are correct, you aren't my responsibility, I'm only doing what you would do for me. I'm doing what I want to do, buddy, not what I need to do. I get what you are saying! Oh, and you're welcome!" Starsky placed his left hand to his face and rubbed his face roughly, raised his hand up and lashed out in anger.

"Ya need to face it, Hutch, the party is over, I'm finished, I can't be a cop! I have no feeling in my legs."

Hutch stood, crossed his arms over his chest and raised his right hand then rubbed his fingers over his chin. He walked closer to his friend and attempted to respond with calm and comfort, turning slightly to keep himself from losing his cool.

"Starsk, this could be temporary. You're a cop and my partner, we are friends, remember? You in a wheelchair won't change any of that. You heard what the doctor said, once the swelling…!"

Hutch was interrupted by his partner's outburst, who had ripped his sling off violently, and grabbed the root beer, tossing it across the room. The bottle landed on the kitchen floor and shattered.

"I'm paralyzed, Hutch! I am useless to you as a partner and a cop!" His eyes were dark and his jaw and chin tight, his shoulders tensed.

Starsky grabbed his arm and winced at the pain he caused to himself. Hutch placed his beer down, grabbed the sling that had landed on the kitchen table next to him and handed it to Starsky. His eyes glossed over, he turned to walk away and turned back around and pointed his finger from his right hand at his partner as tears threatened to seep from the piercing blue eyes.

"Starsk, you aren't the only one hurting here! Do you think this is easy for me-do you? I'm standing here trying to understand what it is like, and I can't…I wish it was me in that chair."

Hutch took a deep breath, raised his hands to his head in a gesture of 'you are impossible'. Starsky attempted to move the chair, he was furious and nudged the table next to him and knocked it over. Hutch moved closer to his partner and grabbed the arm of the chair briskly.

"I'm a cripple, face it because I have. Move on Hutch. A bullet in my head could put us both out of our misery!" The message was delivered with a death glare of indigo blue orbs, mouth tight, the words trailed like a slow killing poison.

Hutch released the wheelchair; he raised his hands up in disbelief and grabbed his jacket, and headed to the door. He couldn't stand in front of his friend, his anger and frustration radiated through his body.

"I need some air! You keep talking like that pal, you'll be wearing a white tuxedo with straps and buckles, and playing in a padded room." Hutch pointed at him, his eyes were wild and wide.

A knock on the door distracted Hutch for the moment; he tossed his jacket onto a chair as though he were a pitcher. He opened the door to a petite woman who smiled, slightly tilted her head to the side. She was the health counselor from the hospital. She was a gentle faced middle aged woman with silky white and gray hair.

"Hello, I'm from home care, Elinor Regan." Hutch blushed, smiled and motioned her in. She felt the tension.

Starsky wheeled himself into his room and slammed the door. Hutch bowed his head and sighed then showed her to the couch.

"I'm sorry, I'm Ken Hutchinson. That was a…huh, I believe you've met." She touched his arm and displayed a comforting smile. They sat; Hutch was uncomfortable, upset and lost. He relocated the lap blanket and placed it on back of the couch. Elinor reached inside her jacket and handed, Hutch several pamphlets.

"Mr. Hutchinson." She smiled.

Hutch glanced at the friendly woman.

"Please call me Ken." He bashfully smiled.

"Ken, I'm also a counselor who works with family and friends of injured parties, I aid in assisting the patient in transition." Hutch leaned on his knees with his elbows pressed and hands forward, he sighed.

She touched his hand and retracted. "David is scared; it's the unknown and uncertainty Ken, pride."

Hutch nodded and looked into her comforting gray blue eyes. Hutch sat back. With a despaired laden voice he said, "He's pushing me away, shutting me out. It, it…ah, it's like he's giving up hope, the will to live, I don't know. The David Starsky I know has always been the glass-is-half-full guy." Hutch rubbed his forehead with his fingers and looked down to the floor.

"The man I spend day in and day out with, doesn't want me here." The woman took a deep breath in and smiled.

"He's scared Ken. I'm told you are detectives, his future is unknown. What he knows to be his life has been interrupted, the future is untouchable right now." She responded soothingly as she repositioned herself on the couch.

"We can only imagine what it feels like. Until we are in that position we can only speculate. The thing we can actually attest to is how we feel, our loss, and our fear." She rubbed her hands together, she sighed. Hutch rubbed his chin, she looked at him.

"Ken, how do you feel? I know this is an open question, give me your first thought?" Hutch sat back up, he looked ahead of him and back to the floor, and sighed.

"He's everything to me. Partner, pal, my best friend. I aha, I'm scared for him, for us." Hutch bowed his head.

"Please, continue Ken." Hutch closed his eyes; he felt tears building.

"I don't know how to help him, if I can help me?" The volcano of internal turmoil recoiled in the distraught blonde. Elinor sat back; she placed her hands in front onto her lap.

"Ken, I sense that your relationship with David is rare and special; it warms my heart. In order to progress, you must take care of Ken first. Know that it is not you he is attacking. He is fighting his own battle and fears, pride."

Hutch composed himself and cleared his throat.

"We've been through a lot, he's been by my side, even when most gave up, he's a rock, never budged." Hutch, now lost in his own thoughts, smiled fondly. The woman sat up, expressing great sympathy; she bowed her head and looked at the blond man next to her.

"When I spoke to David at the hospital, it was definitely expressed what he feels for you Ken, two souls operating as one." She shook her head.

"I am treading on thin ice, but I feel you need to hear that. Ken, I am here for you." Elinor stood, as did Hutch. She headed toward Starsky's bedroom door; she turned to Hutch and winked.

"We got this, Ken!" She knocked on the door and entered. Hutch crossed his arms over his chest and grinned.

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Elinor left, her visit was brief with Starsky. The evening remained quiet; Hutch worked on the case and reviewed the evidence. Starsky was in his room next to his bed, staring out the window. The phone rang. Hutch looked toward the bedroom and saw no movement so he reached for the phone.

"Hello!"

"Hutch, how's things shakin'?" Huggy leaned on the bar, scoped the smoky room of patrons of the dimly lit bar. Hutch sat back and rubbed his eyes.

"Shaking, more like crumbling, Hug."

Huggy stood, and turned his back and extended the phone cord for privacy.

"The streets are silent; I'm not getting a thing."

Hutch tapped the pen on the table scattered with manila file folders.

"Yeah, I'm waiting for the prints I got off of a book of matches from Ming Ju's a few blocks from your place."

Huggy scratched his head. "Ming Ju's? I know one of the bus boys there, he moonlighted here. I'll see if he knows anything."

Hutch closed the folder, rubbed his eye again. "Thanks, Hug." Hanging up the phone, he stood, glared at the bedroom door, then sighed and walked towards it and leaned against the door frame.

"It's late." Hutch leaned his head, hoped he would get some form of response from his partner and friend, not this shell who's angry and had given up.

Starsky closed his eyes, sighed and continued to look away.

"Kay…." A response, the conversation short.

Hutch wheeled his partner into the bathroom. He crouched down and rolled up the left leg of Starsky's sweatpants. He then took a plastic pitcher and placed it near the leg, and kneeled down, he carefully un-clamped the tube at the bottom of the urinary leg bag and emptied the yellow liquid into the pitcher. Re-clamping the tube he picked up the pitcher, turned and emptied it into the toilet.

Hutch stood, rinsed the pitcher out and flushed the toilet, he washed his hands. Starsky backed out of the bathroom and returned to the bedside and turned the chair around as though it was his beloved Torino with remarkable precision. Using his left hand, he worked the arm rest off of the wheelchair and sat it down to the right side of his chair. He then locked the wheels and awaited his friend with a long face.

Hutch returned and said, "Ready, buddy?"

"As I'll ever be." Starsky replied flatly.

Hutch instinctively knew what to do; the communication as always didn't take spoken words. Hutch pulled his partner's shoes off while his partner worked off his navy blue sweatshirt and tossed it onto the floor. All the while, Starsky still couldn't look at him.

Hutch gently wrapped his arms around his partner, lifting him against his chest and eased him onto the bed. Starsky fidgeted and attempted to adjust himself as Hutch lifted his legs, but never looked at his partner.

Hutch reached for the waistband of the sweatpants Starsky was wearing and then began to work them down and off. He laid them at the foot of the bed.

Hutch switched the leg bag for the larger overnight urine bag. He covered his friend up and told him, "Goodnight!" but received no reply from the sullen man. Walking to the door, he flipped the light switch and stopped in the doorway, bowing his head.

I'm not leaving Starsk, I'm here if you need me." Silence made the distance between them feel like the Grand Canyon. His partner lay motionless in bed. Hutch puckered as though holding his breath and shook his head and he walked away.

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Several weeks had passed, Hutch didn't have any leads and the partial fingerprint on the book of matches wasn't enough to get an accurate ID.

Starsky was in his room with a visiting nurse and physical therapist.

At a knock on the door, Hutch approached it cautiously, retrieving his gun from the holster with his right hand and opened the door to Huggy who is sported a flashy, silk, sky blue letterman's jacket and dark, navy blue bell bottoms holding a takeout bag. Huggy strolled in, placed the food on the counter and sat down at the kitchen table.

"You okay Blondie?"

Hutch placed the gun back in the holster walked over and looked inside the bag.

"I'm fine, Starsky on the other hand hates the world, wants me gone. This smells great!" His smile displayed appreciation.

"My partner's given up and I can't make a dent in this god forsaken case. It's like I'm waiting for the dam to break, that single drip, drip, drip." Hutch paced the kitchen as he placed his hands to the back of his neck.

Huggy, reached for a chip from a bowl on the table.

"He's on on a low right now, he'll bounce back! Curly can be pigheaded. You'll see my man." Huggy formed a confident smile, stood and walked closer to Hutch.

"I've got my contact at Ming Ju's putting the feelers out, something is going to spill." Huggy opened his mouth and tossed the chip in, chewed and snickered. "Use your finger, plug the dam!"

Hutch shook his head and laughed. His moment of laughter, however, is distracted as a nurse carrying a black bag emerged from the bedroom and tossed her long, brunette ponytail aside. She nudged the male, muscle bound, balded physical therapist as they came out of the bedroom. Although they were smiling, Hutch knew they were putting on a front. The nurse walked over to Hutch and smiled.

"We will be back on Monday. I left more supplies and instructions for you on the night stand." Her eyes searched for acknowledgement, Hutch nodded.

"Thank you, Angela, see you then." He responded, almost robotically. She stopped and turned back to Hutch.

"For what it's worth, he is trying." She bit her lip, winked and walked to the doorway where her counterpart was waiting and exited.

The door to the bedroom opened abruptly and Starsky wheeled himself out toward the food. He looked over at Huggy and nodded, but didn't smile.

Huggy looked over at Hutch, and back at Starsky. "Millie made you some of that gut wrenching chili." As he spoke, he crossed his arms over the sky blue material of his jacket.

Starsky paused, glanced at Huggy, but didn't keep eye contact.

"Thank her for me will ya?" The words mumbled, defeated.

Starsky reached for the bag on the edge of the counter and grasped it, the paper bag ripped and the contents within the bag fell into his lap but the containers remained sealed. Hutch leaped forward to help him. Starsky's face filled with rage.

"I've got it!" His voice, loud and mean, startled the blond.

Hutch raised his hands up and backed away. Huggy saw the hurt on Hutch's face, even more, the rage in Starsky. Huggy walked up behind Starsky, nudged him slightly on the shoulder.

"The man's trying to help, that's all. Don't bite the hand that feeds you. I'll be back tomorrow." Huggy made his way to the door and winked at Hutch as he departed.

Starsky bowed his head and his features soften with embarrassment. He knew Huggy had made a valid point.

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Later that evening, Hutch was in the shower as Starsky made his way through the kitchen and grabbed a beer, a strange noise from outside caught his attention. He placed the beer on the counter and made his way over to his gun holster that hung on the coat rack near the bathroom, he attempted to reach it and failed. He knocked the rack over onto himself and with hands that trembled, he nervously retrieved his gun.

Starsky's was heart beating fast, his face covered with sweat. He maneuvered the wheelchair toward the front window in the living room, the police car and officers were still out in their car undisturbed. He heard noise coming from the sliding glass doors in the kitchen area, he placed the gun onto his lap and rolled the wheelchair cautiously, stopping a few feet from the glass sliding doors. The sound of trash cans crashing startled him. Starsky's cop instincts kicked in and he attempted to wheel the chair around quickly, but was hindered when the chair became entangled with the coat rack with one of the wooden legs has lodged in the wheels. He reached to pull the wooden coat rack away, causing the chair to tilt. He fell out of his chair onto the floor with the chair following him.

Hutch was in the midst of pulling his white T-shirt on when he was disrupted by the noise and rushed out to see his partner on the floor; he ran toward him. Starsky scurried to reach for his gun just as Hutch reached him.

"Starsky, what the hell?" Hutch knelt next to him; his eyes took inventory of the man on the floor before him.

"I heard something on the deck, Hutch! The chair, oh dammit!" Hutch reacted quickly and stood. Bending his knees, he stooped over in a low crouch and crawled to his gun that sat on the counter then made his way to the glass door and glanced outside. He took a deep breath and lowered his gun, the trash can was dumped and a raccoon sat next to it. Hutch released the breath he didn't know he had been holding as he placed his gun back on the counter and made his way to his partner.

"Raccoon in the trash!" He smiled and chuckled.

Starsky reached for the wheelchair, wrestled with it, and attempted to right it. Hutch cautiously assisted him; the wheelchair was placed back up onto its wheels and he helped his partner back into the chair. Starsky assisted, he pulled on his partner's arm as he was lifted. Hutch bent over and retrieved the gun and handed it back to his partner.

"You okay, buddy?"

Starsky slapped the gun out of Hutch's hand, causing it to land and slide across the kitchen floor. Hutch was startled by his actions.

"Get out Hutch, leave…I'm fucking useless! Go back to work! Let Dobey assign you a new partner, just GO!" His face was covered in sweat, his jaw tight along with rigid shoulders. He rolled his chair back toward the bedroom, his head down to avoid the blond, blue eyed man next to him.

Hutch took a few steps and recovered his partner's gun and the coat rack. He held his partner's gun in his hands, looked towards the bedroom, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He gently placed the gun on the kitchen table and paused in deep thought.

"I'm not giving up, neither are you!" He whispered as sadness and defeat met with determination. His long legs stepped in stride to his partner's bedroom and entered to see him sitting in the dark by the bed. He sat on the bed next to him. Hutch ran his right hand through his hair to the back of his neck and rubbed for a few seconds. He was exhausted, his emotions were raw and exposed, he made one last ditched effort to speak to Starsky, but was interrupted by his partner.

Starsky wouldn't look at Hutch; his voice was calm and was almost a whisper.

"It can't be like this, Hutch. My days as a cop are done. I'm paralyzed, I'm a cripple. I'm not even a man. You take things for granted, going to the bathroom, showering, changing your clothes. There's no dignity, my partner is now my nurse." Starsky's words were weak, yet powerful. He placed his hands in front of him, and they were shaking.

"Look at my hands; I couldn't protect you or me. Some cop I am, falling out of a wheelchair, dropping my gun." Starsky paused and placed his hands on his legs and rubbed.

"Wish I'd died, you'd be better off." Although whispered, the words packed a punch.

Hutch glanced over at his partner, disbelief, anger and frustration came over his features as the normally soft, blue eyes flickered in redness and widened. The jaw line tightened and lines formed on his forehead.

"I don't believe you! You have the audacity to assume that I'd be better off? You don't wish death!" Hutch stood and paced across the room, and turned abruptly and pointed at his heart.

"You, David Starsky are, and will always be my partner, my best friend. You are not a quitter; you don't back down, you don't lie down." Hutch raised his hands, his eyes focused; the words trickled with frustration and a heavy heart.

"Do you want to hurt me-do you? You're doing a great job at it, pal." Hutch kicked the bed, rubbed his face and glanced down at his partner.

"You can be a real jackass, you know that? You're having yourself quite the pity party!" Hutch raised his arms up and placed his hands to the back of his neck, and turned away.

Starsky had put his hands over his face and gasped out. "Hutch, just walk out that door, live your life…go. Just GO, and get out before I get you are hurt or killed!" They were words spoken softer; he refused to look at his partner's blue gaze of agony.

Hutch turned and grabbed the wheelchair with both hands, kneeled in front of his friend; Hutch was angry and pulled Starsky's hands away from his face. He held a tight grip, his face twitched.

"Listen to me, Starsky, you aren't getting rid of me. I'm not leaving, do you hear me? You want me to leave; you'll have to remove me yourself! Go ahead, come on hot shot!" Hutch's voice was loud, direct and quivered.

Starsky ripped his hands from his partner's grip, pulled back his left arm and punched Hutch in the jaw sending him sideways. He attempted to do it again. Hutch didn't move and Starsky hit him again, this time on the shoulder which sent him backward. Starsky stopped; he looked at his hands, then at Hutch. Tears began to form, the tension in his jaw released and was replaced with shock and remorse.

"Hutch, oh god mmm sorry!" Starsky's shoulders dropped, his voice cracked.

Hutch regained his balance; his chin quivered as he raised his arms and extended them outward, then pulled back.

Starsky reached out to touch his partner; tears threatened to flow from his eyes. He grasped Hutch's arm and pulled his partner into an embrace.

"Didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He wrapped his arms around his partner and squeezed as he sobbed quietly. Hutch returned the embrace with his face against the soft brunet curls as tears are released.

"Buddy, we are going to beat this. Let it go, let it go." Although tears were flowing, a sense of relief overtook the blond's features.

He smiled and chuckled. "For a guy in a wheelchair, you pack a hell of a punch, Gordo!" Hutch laughed, and felt the man in his arms releasing the hostility, as he too laughed.

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The phone rang. Starsky was awake as he lay in bed; Hutch was asleep next to him. Starsky reached for the phone.

"Hello!" There was silence on the phone. Starsky frowned.

"Hello?" His voice stern, firm. The silence was broken by a male voice.

"How's it feel, cop? This is just the beginning. You are going to suffer." Starsky reached over and nudged his partner. Hutch flinched and woke up.

"Least you could do is give me a hint, punk." The words were growled.

James clicked the hammer on his gun. "A hint? Is that what you gave my brother?" He snapped. Hutch leaned in to listen.

"Your brother?" Starsky glanced toward Hutch, his mouth opened slightly. James held up a picture of Lonni, a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm not done with you Detective David Starsky. Your badge, your legs. You are going to pay for what you did to my brother. He was just a kid, L…" The phone line was disconnected and went back to a dial tone.

Starsky hung up the phone. He frowned and his mind began to work. Hutch got up and walked around the bed and grabbed the phone. Starsky pushed himself into a seated position as Hutch switched the lamp on. Starsky snapped his fingers and grabbed his arm.

"Military, brother. He started to say a name, just a kid…L…L…Lonni Craig?" Starsky's eyes widened, stunned and in disbelief. Hutch looked at him then dialed the phone.

"This is Detective Hutchinson, get me some information on James Craig, veteran connected to Lonni Craig case from three years ago." Hutch waited on the phone. Starsky brushed the cobwebs of sleep from his face, Hutch yawned. "Yes, yes…deliver it to Captain Dobey, thanks."

Hutch grabbed his holster from the bureau and started to walk out of the room.

Starsky raised his left hand and ran it through his hair. His eyes displayed concern and his features fear stricken. "Where are you going?"

Hutch stopped in his tracks, as he put the holster on.

"I'm going to get him!" He continued as he fastened the leather straps. Starsky pulled the chair next to the bed and slid himself into it.

"No Hutch, not without me!" Starsky wheeled himself to Hutch; his eyes were intense and alive. The sparkle of life appeared to be back.

"He's after me; let him come to us, no private parties! Ya got me sounding like Dobey!" The tone, the brilliance of indigo shone from the man in the wheelchair. Hutch looked at his partner, his gut knew he was right, but the fear in his heart radiated through his face.

Starsky placed his hand on Hutch's arm.

"I don't want to die, I don't want to sit back either…it's our party." He gave a half grin, raising his eyebrows with anticipation.

This is the first time in weeks; Starsky has reached out to him and gently touched his arm. The first time his friend's eyes sparkled with light; suddenly the tunnel didn't seem so deep. Hutch nodded.

"It's good to have you back, partner." A smile spreads across both their faces.

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The next morning Starsky and Hutch had set the bait and prepared for what James Craig had in store for them. Huggy revisited Ming Ju's and his contact who confirmed James's picture. He was also informed that this man purchased a paper weekly at the restaurant. Huggy recalled James inhabiting his place on several occasions, and began the rumor mill on the streets that Hutch had returned to work with a new partner and Starsky was working cases from home. The police officers were removed from Starsky's place and replaced with undercover officers who posed as construction workers. Hutch's car was removed from Starsky's place.

Starsky grew more and more anxious, a few days had gone by and there was no word or sign of James. Hutch kept a low profile. It was late, storms in the area exhibited a very uneasy night. There was a knock on the door; Starsky had his gun on his lap. Hutch pulled his out and slowly went to the door, he opened the door and there stood an older black woman, she smiled.

"May I come in?" Hutch let her in, as he looked outside to make sure she was alone. Starsky wheeled himself to the center of the living room, obviously surprised by the look on his face.

"Mrs. Craig?" He watched as the woman approached. She walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

"I'm sorry, so sorry…I needed to see you. James is not well." Her words were followed by sobs. Starsky motioned her to sit.

"What are you doing here?" Starsky's features showed grave concern, he glanced at Hutch. Mrs. Craig wiped her tears away.

"Two detectives came to my house asking questions. James has been gone for months now, he's not right. The doctors say he needs help." She clasped a white handkerchief in her right hand.

Hutch, sat on the arm of the couch and crossed his arms, he looked at the distraught woman. "Mrs. Craig, how long has James been back?"

"A month after Lonni was buried; he went silent and has been on his own. He refused to talk about Lonni." She sighed, glanced at Hutch.

"You're taking a chance on being here." Starsky made his way closer to her, concern on his face. She grabbed Starsky's hand and squeezed.

"You weren't at fault for Lonni's death, he signed his death sentence." She stood and leaned and kissed Starsky on the cheek and hugged Hutch.

"I needed to see you, be safe, I am so very sorry." Mrs. Craig left; Hutch placed himself as a lookout at the window.

"She's some lady; this isn't settling with me, Starsk. I can feel it, something's going down tonight." Hutch turned to address his statement.

Starsky looked around, looked down at his lap. Hutch noticed this; he knew instantly what his partner was thinking.

"Hey, my bet is on you, Starsk, don't let it get in your head." Starsky looked at Hutch, with a Cheshire cat grin and picked up his gun.

"Glad one of us has confidence." As he pressed his lips together, he raised his eyebrows.

Starsky felt something strange in his legs, a light cramping sensation, he jumped slightly and his foot twitched. Starsky sat there startled, his eyebrows raised, mouth opened, his face displayed surprise and disbelief. Hutch looked at him.

"You look like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar!" Hutch spoke, startled when he saw his partner's leg twitch, and walked over.

"Ah ah, your leg moved! Starsky your leg just moved!" Hutch's mouth is opened as he pointed his finger. Starsky smiled, tears of happiness formed. **"** Can you move it on your own?"

Starsky strained, finally grinned widely as his left leg moved forward slightly.

"YES!" Hutch made a fist and swung it in the air in excitement.

The storm outside grew intense and became violent with flashes of lightening, Starsky's smile turned to concern as he felt uneasy. The thunder shook the house, the lightning flashed like fireworks. The lights went out. Hutch moved quickly toward the window and looked around, and made sure all lights were out.

"Everyone is out!" His voice crisp with anxiety.

He made his way over to Starsky, touched his shoulder and went to the kitchen. In a split second Hutch dove toward his partner, both hitting the floor as gunshots rang out. Hutch crawled, pulled Starsky to a more secure cover near the bathroom. He grabbed the wheelchair and assisted him back in the chair. Starsky held his gun out.

"You okay, Hutch?" Starsky cocked his gun, as the question left thin, lined lips of tension. Hutch caught his breath, he checked his partner out. "Yeah! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Starsky chuckled, as he glanced around. "Even if you did, you owed me one, I'm fine! Thanks Blondie!" He winked at his partner.

The glass doors were smashed open, a man appeared in full military attire. At the same time the front door opened, Mrs. Craig walked in. Hutch on his knees near his partner slid himself on the floor between his partner and James. James had his gun drawn at the boys. Mrs. Craig walked toward him. She was soaking wet and cried as she reached her hand out.

"James Levon Craig, put that gun away!" Her voice orders.

He stared at Starsky, his breathing was heavy. "Momma, this is for Lonni, for Lonni." He glared toward Starsky, his face twitched.

Hutch looked to the floor next to him and reached for his gun, it had slipped out of the holster onto the floor.

"Don't move Hutchinson, don't move. My beef isn't with you, but I'm not opposed to killing you." James barked his voice stern.

Starsky slid his gun by his left leg and concealed it with his hand.

"Never a good thing when ya mother calls ya by your birth given name. Why don't you let Hutch go?" Starsky spoke loud and clear. Hutch shook his head. Mrs. Craig made her way closer to her son with her hand held out.

"James, this won't bring your baby brother back, understand? Lonni pulled a gun on this man, there were innocent people around." She sobbed uncontrollably as she pleaded. James became extremely agitated and fired a shot next to Hutch. Starsky flinched, glared directly at James.

"Momma, stay back. Lonni was a boy, this cop took him."

He motioned for Hutch to stand. Hutch did so slowly with his hands to the side in a surrender formation, and he watched James and Mrs. Craig. James motioned Hutch to move away from his partner slowly. Starsky looked at him with a sparkle and a note of mischievousness he hadn't had in weeks. Hutch instantly knew his partner had something up his sleeve so he moved slowly. Mrs. Craig cried.

"James, I'm begging you baby, please don't do this. Please baby?" Her plea was heart breaking.

The lightning strike startled everyone. Starsky pushed Hutch and reached for his gun beneath his left hand and fired, hitting James in the hand which caused him to drop his gun. Hutch moved in to remove the gun. James fell to his knees as he held his hand. His mother went to him. Starsky sighed, he was overcome with relief. Hutch went to him and placed his hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed.

"What was that crap about not being a cop anymore? Thanks partner!" Hutch reached and ruffled his partner's hair playfully. Starsky grinned.

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A few weeks passed. At Starsky's place, a nurse and therapist left Starsky's bedroom, both giggled and headed for the door, and almost bumped into Hutch carrying groceries. Hutch stepped aside, and walked in to put the groceries on the counter. He began to unpack them, and was startled by a tap on his shoulder. He turned, and there was his partner who stood with a walker and sported a full-blown Starsky smile.

Hutch smiled from ear to ear. "Look at you, Starsk, I had no doubt!"

Starsky made his way slowly to a stool and sat, but his smile slowly went away. He looked down and back up to his partner. Hutch popped a beer open, and turned around to see his partner deep in thought.

"Alright, what's bugging you, Gordo?" His eyebrow rose.

"Ah, it's been a ride Hutch; you've been there for me." He bowed his head and sighed. Hutch smirked and popped another beer.

"The invoice is in the mail, buddy!" He joked and raised his beer. Starsky put a half grin on.

"It's been eating away at me; I gotta get this off my chest." Starsky wiped his face, took a deep breath. Hutch put his beer down, and gave his partner his full attention.

"I was in a dark place, even thought of ending it all." Starsky paused, his chin quivered and he smiled again and sighed. He quickly rubbed his eyes.

"You believed in me. I'm sorry, I, uh, went selfish on ya. I was a total asshole, jerk. Worse than a jerk." Looking at his blond half of the partnership, he pursed his lips tightly.

Hutch knew this was difficult for his partner, and that he truly meant every word. He turned away slightly.

"Hey buddy, me and thee right? Don't let it happen again!" Hutch glared at him, smirked and pointed.

Starsky nodded his head, and ran his hand through his hair. Hutch put his hand out to his friend, Starsky grasped it, and they did the side hug. Hutch pulled away and poured the beer over Starsky's head. Starsky was startled, mouth open. The beer fizzled as it flattened his curls.

"Hey! What did you do that for?" His voice cracked.

Hutch pointed at him with a scowled expression. "That's for punching me twice. I agree you were an asshole and a jerk, worse than a jerk!"

Starsky wiped his face as he flushed and blinked.

"I said I was sorry!" The voice tense and cracked again.

Hutch laughed and went to the fridge, turning. "Apology accepted. I'm okay, you're okay…we are okay!"

The end.


End file.
